


Tipping Over the Edge

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, Batman: The Dark Prince Charming (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics), Suicide Squad (2016), The Joker - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Assassins & Hitmen, Drinking, F/M, Insecurity, Jealousy, Oral Sex, Smut, nonabusive Joker and Harley Quinn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25724590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Joker is suddenly struck by feelings of insecurity when it comes to his relationship with Harley.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 24
Kudos: 53





	1. Damaged

**Author's Note:**

  * For [395428jarley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/395428jarley/gifts).



> Another great prompt from 395428jarley

Laughing, Harley climbed the ladder to the diving board. She had put her hair in long hanging pigtails and wore a retro inspired bikini in red and white polka dots. The top she had on had cap sleeves, and an adjustable tie-front detail that reminded Joker of Elly Mae from an old sitcom called The Beverly Hillbillies. The bottom of the suit was high waisted, coming up over her belly button, though the sides were cut high on her hips; compared to the other women here Harley looked down right modest, but Joker found her all the sexier for it. The retro swimsuit was really doing it for him. He watched her from where he leaned against the side of the pole, sipping from a wine glass as his wife raced across the diving board, hit the end with a jump, vaulted into the air, and performed a spin before she dove into the water with a splash. 

He chuckled while taking another sip of his drink while the other people gathered around applauded his girl. 

Penguin had invited the lot of them here for the opening of the Iceberg Lounge’s new pool area. The pool was at least two acres, not the largest pool in the world, but the biggest one in Gotham City. The pool had diving boards, a water slide, a couple of waterfalls, and light effects. The domed building had taken months to build and Joker knew for a fact that Ossie had to grease a few palms to get a few permits, but now it was done and tonight was the grand opening...for villains only. Next week the pool would open to the public so the richie rich of Gotham could book their dinners poolside where they could enjoy a good meal, live music, go swimming afterwards, or enjoy some of the live water shows that Oswald had planned. 

Joker held the opinion that synchronized swimmers (which he knew Ossie had lined up for the grand opening next week) were some of the weirdest entertainment he had ever seen and it gave him the creeps. People talked about clowns being creepy, but he knew it was synchronized swimmers that were really frightening. No one should look that happy about practically drowning themselves and sticking their legs in the air like that. It wasn’t natural. 

But Joker had to admit, poolside dinner was a neat idea. The little entrepreneur was sure this new type of dining was going to rake him in the bucks. Joker wasn’t sure what the appeal of watching strangers in tiny swimwear was, but then he only had eyes for Harley. He could watch Harley walk around wet, in a swimsuit, all day, every day, and never once get bored, though he was eternally thankful she wasn’t into synchronized swimming. 

Yuck! 

Speaking of which, he felt a pair of hands grab his bare legs, then crawl their way up to his hips. Joker chuckled and turned slightly just as Harley’s head popped up out of the water. 

“Hey puddin!! Did you see me dive?!” Harley giggled, wiping water from her face and slicking her hair back. He smiled at her and laughed. She was so sexy at any time, but slicking her hair back just made his shorts feel too small. He finished off his drink and turned fully to lean his elbows against the side of the pool. His legs floated up a little and Harley slid between them. 

“I did my little mermaid. Very spectacular splash!” He grinned at her while Harley wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brushed her wet nose against his, her lips hovering over his mouth. “You should try diving,” Harley purred before licking his mouth. 

Joker chuckled, dropping his arms to wrap around her. “Nah, I think I’ll leave the diving to my scrumptious mermaid.” 

Harley giggled and kissed him, causing Joker to bob back against the side of the pool. Her lips tasted like alcohol, a little bit of chlorine, and all her. He returned her kiss passionately, his hands sliding along her wet, slick sides only to have Harley suddenly bob downward and yank him with her. He laughed, opening his eyes underwater to see Harley’s light blue eyes dancing, her mouth still against his own. He wrinkled his nose at her as a few bubbles escaped their noses. 

Reaching up, Harley ran her fingers through his floating green hair and brushed her nose against his before she shoved him down and broke free of his grip. She spun around gracefully in the water and swam off. He grinned, pushing his way back up to the surface. He caught his breath just as Harley bobbed to the surface a few feet away. 

“I’m going to the bar puddin, want anything?” Harley asked with a bright smile. 

Joker grinned back at her. He loved to see her enjoying herself so much. “Yes my dear, how about an Old Fashioned.” 

“You got it puddin! Be right back!” Harley turned and swam to the other side of the pool where Lark was tending the bar while wearing a black one-piece swimsuit. 

He sighed happily, watching Harley pull herself out of the pool, water running down her trim figure. He licked his lips. The thought of peeling her out of the bathing suit made heat rush straight to his groin. He bit his bottom lip with a sigh, leaning back to let himself float on the top of the water. He was looking forward to going home tonight...maybe he would just take her in the car on the way back. He chuckled at the enticing thought of her riding his lap. 

He could hear Eddie and Quelle nearby talking back and forth along with a lot of splashing. Apparently Eddie, it turned out, didn’t know how to swim, so Quelle was giving him lessons, which had been funny to watch for a few minutes until it became just pathetic. Bane was over in one of the jacuzzis, snoring loudly, (Joker wondered if Bane would slip underwater and drown. Now that would be funny!) while Croc was helping the chef with the barbeque. Apparently the man at the grill had no idea what he was doing and needed to be schooled by a giant Cajun Crocodile. Too funny! Two-face was busying flipping his coin which was determining whether he was diving or not (he was mostly just spending a lot of his time drinking and flipping that damnable coin) while Crane, who looked like a stick figure in baggy shorts, was swimming strokes with a single mindedness that Joker found boring. 

Ivy was here, but she refused to get in the water--too many chemicals. Whiner, Joker thought. Instead she had herself set up under some heat lamps that Ossie had given her and was cooking herself. Maybe she would dry up, Joker thought with a smile. That would be grand, just grand... 

Selina sat on the side of the pool wearing a bathing suit that was really only a bathing suit in name, distracting all the male servers working for Ossie. Her Batbrain boyfriend would probably lose his mind if he saw her in that getup. Joker chuckled as he floated in a lazy circle, thinking of Batsy trying to cover Selina with his cape...Batsy was such a prude. 

Hatter was nearby sitting in a giant duck floaty with his henchmen, the Twiddles, floating along in lounges beside him while he spouted off some nonsense about shining crocodiles of the Nile. Even Clayface, who had been in Arkham Asylum until recently, had showed up. The giant walking Moai statue wasn’t getting in the water, but rather sat in a lounge looking like a sarcophagus, at least as far as Joker was concerned. The man hadn’t moved in hours. He should at least spread himself out so they could all make sandcastles or something Joker thought with a slight frown. What a waste. 

Bob, wearing a bright pink one piece swimsuit that had a little ruffle skirt around it, was jumping off the diving boards with Harley and having a grand time while Frost--wearing his work suit--simply stood off to the side watching. Joker noted that he especially kept an eye on his girlfriend Ecco, whom he had invited to the party. Joker could see her over at the end of the pool next to Selina talking and glancing over at her boyfriend. 

She was probably wishing the big lug would get into the pool too. 

That poor man needed a good dunking Joker thought with a grin. 

Overseeing them all was Ossie, wearing a pair of black and white swim trunks while sitting in a giant inflatable crown floatie drinking martinis that were being brought out to him by scantily clad bikini girls. Joker was sure Lark was enjoying that. Bet the short little man was going to get an earful later. He chuckled. Now that would be fun to watch, Lark tearing Ossie a new one! 

Sighing Joker continued to float waiting for Harley, his mind wandering to what it might be like to have sex in the pool. That would probably piss off the little bird, which was just another point in favor of doing it. He was also thinking about how a good bit of dynamite might make this little party more exciting. He wondered if he could make a big enough explosion that the water would hit the domed roof when he heard a voice that made him go stiff. 

“Hey sweetheart.” 

Joker dropped from floating and sank into the water at the sound of the voice until only his eyes and green hair were above the water. Over at the bar with Harley was Deadshot, Floyd Lawton...that fucking assassin. 

Joker narrowed his eyes, slowly swimming closer while keeping his head mostly underwater, and listening. 

* 

“Oh hey Floyd, I didn’t know you were going to be here.” Harley grinned at him as she leaned against the bar on her elbows, her back arched. Floyd smiled, his eyes dancing over Harley’s figure. 

“Well, I got some business with Cobblepot…” Floyd smiled. “How are you doing? You look fantastic.” 

Harley giggled and blushed. “Aw, thanks. I’m doing really good. Mistah J and I have been having all kinds of fun!” 

Deadshot nodded. “Good, good. He treating you all right?” 

Harley giggled and bumped her hip against Floyd. “Oh stop it, Dad.” She giggled teasingly. “You worry too much. We’re great. Mistah J treats me like a queen.” 

Floyd shrugged. “Sorry, part of my nature, and I worry because your boyfriend is unstable.” 

Harley held out her hand wiggling her fingers. 

Floyd’s brows lifted in surprise when he saw a ring on her ring finger. “You get hitched?” 

Harley grinned, her cheeks turning rosy. “Sure did. Me and Mistah J are official.” 

Floyd nodded, not sure if he believed it. He stepped closer and leaned against the bar having edged close enough to Harley that he could smell the mix of chlorine and vanilla off her skin. He liked Harley. She was smart and pretty, but dangerous and completely bonkers. 

He glanced over at the pool and looked around until he spotted a flash of Joker’s green hair. She was a gorgeous woman, but he could never see her as more than a sister-like relation. He knew that was how Harley saw him, as a big brother. Floyd could see Ossie’s floatie slowly being brought over to the edge of the pool so that they could discuss the weapons Deadshot was here to purchase. “Why don’t you tell me all about it? I got some time.” He had also noted Joker moving closer. He was keeping just his eyes above the water, coming up occasionally for a breath. The man was trying to be slick by hiding behind Tetch and the Tweedles, but there was no mistaking that green hair. 

Deadshot grinned in understanding. The clown was jealous. 

Good. 

He should worry, Floyd thought. That clown had too much confidence, well-earned confidence generally, but Floyd wanted to make sure Joker knew how precious Harley was and not like one of his henchmen that he took for granted. He turned his attention back to Harley. “I would like to hear about the wedding.” 

Harley giggled, her eyes bright. “Really? Oh, well you see…” 

Floyd very lightly touched Harley on the back knowing Joker would see him touch her and it would piss the clown off. He smiled and leaned a little closer to Harley. 

“You know, I think I will have a drink after all.” 

* 

Joker’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Deadshot and jealousy shot through him hot, green, and nasty. He imagined putting a gun to Deadshot’s head… 

Oh no. He had an even better idea! Holding the gun to that stupid red targeting thingie he always wore like some sort of silly monocle. He could just press the barrel of his gun up against that thing then POW! Let’s see Mr. Smartypants dodge that! 

He grinned, his smile hidden by the water. Yeah, that would be nice. Or maybe blow up his car? Nah, killing Deadshot would have to be personal, slicing open his throat, gunshot to the eye, maybe just stabbing him--a lot. Just make sure not one stab wound alone wasn’t fatal, but with enough holes in him Deadshot could bleed out slowly and Joker could just watch, laughing the entire time… 

Yeah...long and torturous… 

But even as these glorious thoughts were going through his head, Joker knew he couldn't do any of them because Harley would become upset with him. Harley considered Deadshot a friend. Deadshot being Harley’s friend made Joker angry--seeing red and green angry--but at the same time he felt a sinking in his chest, like his heart had dropped to his stomach, then sank even lower. The sensation made him feel a gnawing ache in the middle of his chest along with a sense of panic and fear. Joker felt vulnerable. 

Deadshot was a good looking man, he could see that; he wasn’t stupid or blind. His skin was a sort of a light honey almond brown with thick black hair cut short, but with just enough flop to it that women would love to run their fingers through it. Deadshot had clear grey eyes that stood out from his almond colored skin. The man was classically good looking in a lot of ways with his chiseled features, masculine chin, and nicely shaped lips, broad shoulders, big arms, the type of guy all women are told they should be attracted to. 

Joker narrowed his eyes followed by thinking hotly to himself. Fuck it, he was probably hung like a goddamn moose to boot! The guy with all the gifts. Asshole, Joker growled to himself blowing angry bubbles in the water again. And on top of all of that, he was sure Deadshot was younger than him. Of course, Joker couldn’t be sure about the age thing since he had no memories and had no actual idea how old he was, but he was pretty sure Deadshot was younger than him. 

Asshole. 

Joker hated him. 

He practically hated how friendly he and Harley were to each other. He also hated how Deadshot made him feel. 

The man made him feel...insecure, even a little inferior...and the Joker never felt inferior. 

Next to Deadshot Joker felt pale in comparison, which was funny in a way, considering he was white as a ghost, but yeah, pale, like he wasn’t enough man for Harley. Joker could see all the women in the area turning to look at Floyd, giving the man the once over even though he wasn’t wearing a bathing suit. That attention didn’t bother Joker though. He didn't really care if anyone found him attractive, except Harley. Her attraction to him was the only thing he cared about. 

What bothered Joker was the way Harley was smiling at Deadshot, leaning on her elbows, her back arched slightly, looking gorgeous, sexy, occasionally bumping her shoulder into him, maybe her hip, and Deadshot laughing with her or Harley laughing at something Deadshot had said. 

That really made his blood boil, the fact that Deadshot could make her laugh, make her smile that beautiful smile of hers, and then he was touching her, his fingers lightly brushing her bare back. 

Joker frowned until his face was creased into a dangerous scowl. He should be the only one who could make Harley smile, he should be the only one touching her. She was his girl, his wife. But he thought that something he wasn’t used to feeling pushed away the jealousy--what if he wasn’t good enough for her? What if she wanted someone else? The thought felt like a stab in his heart. It was the most painful feeling he had ever had. 

He blew air through his nose making irritated bubbles in the water. 

Feeling weird, despondent, hurt, and angry, Joker moved off to the other side of the pool to stew in these strange and unfamiliar feelings. He couldn’t seem to stop the negative feelings that were twisting around in his chest like angry snakes, hissing doubts at him. 

What if Harley could do better than him? Maybe she deserves a better guy, even if he was the best...but was he the best guy? He was the best clown, that was true, but what if she didn't want that anymore? What would he do? He wasn’t normal looking with his pale fish belly skin, green hair, and his sharp features. Maybe she didn’t find him attractive anymore? What if Harley was bored by that, what if she decided she wanted a more “normal” looking guy instead of him with a better build, a younger guy? 

She could do that, he thought. Dump him and pick herself up another guy with a snap of her fingers. Harley was gorgeous! The most beautiful woman in all of Gotham, in all the world! Everyone would want her as their girl. She was smart too, funny as hell, sexy, sweet, thoughtful. She was damn near perfect, he knew. 

Any man, or woman for that matter, would be lucky to have Harley as their girl. 

She could have anybody she wanted in her bed, but why him when she could have anyone else? Why wouldn’t she want someone like Deadshot? 

And the worst part of all, he was in love with her! She was the only person in the world who understood him. He had never felt love before until Harley came into his life. What would he do if she left him? 

Joker began to worry at his bottom lip, his eyes staring into the water around him. There was a lot about him that Harley might not find attractive anymore... 

But he was unique! The way he looked was special because there was only one of him! And no one could tell a joke like him! No one could laugh like him? Come up with schemes or pranks like he could! 

He was a catch! 

Or was he? 

What if he didn’t make her happy? Maybe his jokes and schemes and...just him...were becoming boring, old hat. Yesterday’s news. 

Joker’s frown deepened, a dark feeling settling over him while he sucked on his bottom lip. He didn’t know if he could survive if Harley left him for Deadshot, if she left him for anyone. 

He had no idea what he would do if the only person he had ever loved decided she didn’t love him anymore. 

“Puddin? You okay?” 

Joker was startled enough from his inner turmoil that he jumped. “Wha…” 

He looked up to see Harley standing on the edge of the pool with two drinks in her hand. She was smiling as she dropped down to a crouch and handed him his Old Fashioned. 

“You looked lost in thought.” Harley smiled at him and took a sip from the straw that was in her colorful and very tropical looking drink containing cherries and chunks of pineapple. “And it didn’t look like they were fun thoughts either. You okay?” 

Joker took his drink from her, turning to see if Deadshot was still there...which he was. He could see the asshole standing by the bar talking with Ossie about something. Joker downed his drink in one hard swallow. “I think I want to go home.” 

Harley blinked in surprise. “Go home? But we were going to play water volleyball with Crane and Riddler and…” 

Joker set his drink down too hard on the poolside and the glass shattered, causing Harley to jump back with a yelp. “I’m going home,” Joker said in a dark sullen voice before he pulled himself up out of the pool. 

Harley was momentarily distracted by his hot, slender body in his black and purple swimming trunks, but then he was stomping off, dripping water and blood (he had cut his hand on the glass) as he went. He didn’t turn to put his hand out for her, or pick her up--nothing. It felt as if he had brushed her off. She felt her chin start to tremble and her eyes stung as she stood up looking around. 

Everyone was staring. 

Harley got to her feet and hurried off after Joker at a near run, fighting back tears. 

* 

Frost took a deep breath in through his nostrils as he looked in the rearview mirror at the Boss and Miss Quinn. 

They were both sitting on opposite ends of the back seat not looking at one another. The Boss was glowering out the window, his usual smiling lips set in a very angry frown. Miss Quinn on the other hand looked hurt and confused. Frost had no idea what was going on. 

Frost glanced over at his girlfriend, Ecco, who was sitting between him and Bob. “Thank you for inviting me,” she said in a whisper. 

“No problem. Sorry we didn’t say longer,” Frost responded while glancing up at the Boss and Miss Quinn in the rearview again. 

“It’s fine.” She gave him a smile, then dropped her voice even lower. “You think they’re okay?” 

Frost shrugged, his voice barely audible. “I have no idea what's even going on.” 

Frost glanced around Ecco to look over at Bob. 

Poor Bob looked upset. The big man had folded his arms around his chest like he was holding himself tight and staring out the window. The big guy really hated it when mom and dad fought. What made it worse was that the Boss and Miss Quinn barely ever fought. Usually when they did fight, they were over it fairly quickly and it was usually over something dumb. The last big fight they had, Bob had easily been able to fix things. Whatever this was that was going on, the Boss looked really upset and Miss Quinn looked confused. 

Frost rubbed his lips together staring out at the road as he drove, and his hands around the steering wheel tightened. Whatever was going on wasn’t good and he was afraid it was going to explode into some particularly bloody violence. 

* 

When they returned home Harley followed Joker upstairs, the two of them still not speaking. Harley stared at his back, her eyes burning with unshed tears. Her puddin hadn’t spoken to her once since they left the party. She just couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. He was angry and he seemed hurt, but he wouldn’t speak to her, he wouldn’t talk to her at all. Had someone at the party done something, said something to him? Had she done something? She had no idea. 

“I’m going to go take a shower,” Harley said as she shut their door behind them. 

Joker grunted at her as he headed into their kitchen pulling open the cabinet doors until he found a bottle of whiskey. He grabbed the bottle and a glass, heading toward the couch. 

Harley stopped to watch him. Joker kicked his shoes off and flopped down on the couch, putting his socked feet up on the table at the same time he used his mouth to open the bottle and pour the drinking glass he had grabbed. He filled it to the brim with the amber liquid. 

“Ah...don’t you want to join me?” she asked, her voice small. 

Joker muttered, “No.” Then he took a long drink. 

Harley’s chin trembled and tears started to roll down her cheeks, but she didn’t say anything. She simply turned and headed to the shower. 

* 

She took a long hot shower. Fuck him if there wasn’t any hot water left for him because her puddin was being a huge jerk and she didn’t even know why! That hurt the most, having no idea what was going on with him and he wouldn’t talk to her. 

That hurt so much it made her want to curl in on herself and cry. She felt like her heart was being ripped in two and she had no idea what she had done to deserve this. While she let the hot water run over her, Harley picked at her memory of the party trying to figure out what she had done to set Joker off, but she just couldn’t think of anything. He had seemed fine when she went to get them each a drink… 

Harley sniffed, then, since she was alone and in the shower, she let herself cry. 

* 

Joker hugged the bottle of whiskey to him. He had finished off the glass and was about to refill it, then decided that he didn’t need the glass--so he was drinking straight out of the bottle. He felt hollow and scared, the coilings of fear, and a blackness of emotion was eating at him. He wasn’t good enough for Harley, he knew it. It didn’t matter how much he loved her, he was never going to be like Deadshot and he just didn’t know what to do with that knowledge. He felt lost and alone. And scared. The Joker was never scared, nothing scared him. But this...God he hated himself for feeling like that, all tight and twisted, his chest hurting, his head hurting, but at the same time he felt angry with Harley and he didn’t really know why. Maybe it was because he loved her. He was angry about loving her, angry that she could make him feel so lost. So uncomfortable and so scared. 

He took another deep swig from the bottle. What did she even see in that guy anyway?!! He was arrogant and...and...stupid. And he didn’t know how to dress. So he was good with guns, but Joker was good with guns! 

Drinking some more, Joker rubbed a hand over his face and yawned. His eyes were burning and his chest hurt, and he even felt a little nauseous. He never felt nauseous. He laid down on his side, still holding the bottle, his thoughts drifting… 

Maybe he needed to show Harley just how great he was...maybe he needed to do something to win her back or at least keep her. Maybe...he could do something to show her that he was just as good as Deadshot? NO, he needed to show her that he was better than Deadshot! 

Joker had to prove himself as worthy of such a woman as Harley Quinn, he knew that now. 

Joker sniffed. He felt tears pricking his eyes and falling despite his best efforts to deny them. He felt inferior, worthless, ugly...Harley could do better than he thought. 

He just didn’t know what to do, but he knew if he lost Harley, his entire world would come crumbling down around him. 

* 

When Harley came out of the shower her eyes were puffy and her nose was stopped up from crying. She felt nauseated and all she wanted to do was make up with Joker and cuddle, but when she came out of the shower, ready to demand that he talk to her, Harley found him lying on his side, asleep on the couch. She sighed as she looked down at him. The suit that he had worn to the part was rumpled and the bottle of whiskey he was holding like a teddy bear was more than half gone. 

She thought briefly about waking him up, then changed her mind. Instead she headed into their room and grabbed a blanket, returned to spread it over him, at the same time gently taking the bottle of whiskey out of his arms. 

“We are talking tomorrow,” she hissed, her voice stuffy sounding. “I’m your doctor; you need to talk to me,” she told his sleeping form before she headed to their bedroom. 

Climbing into bed, Harley pulled the blankets around her and wrapped her arms around herself and curled into a fetal position. She told herself she wasn’t going to cry again, but she did, crying herself to sleep. 

* 

Joker woke in the late afternoon and he felt like crap. He sat up, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands and dropped the empty whiskey bottle to the floor where it made a dull thunk on the rug. He looked around to see he had fallen asleep on the couch, remembered hugging the remains of a whiskey bottle that he must have finished off sometime during the day except he didn’t really remember doing so. He looked around with a frown on his pale features. The place was quiet which meant Harley was still asleep. 

His heart ached as he thought about Harley. He wanted to go into their bedroom and wrap himself around her, tell her he was sorry about last night, but he just couldn’t do it. He wasn’t sure why. His feelings--which he had hoped would sort themselves out after drinking and sleeping--didn’t feel sorted out at all. If anything the self-loathing doubt felt tighter, like someone had pulled the strings on the knot and made them tighter, harder to pick loose. 

He leaned back with a sigh trying to think despite the headache that pounded at his temples. What could he do that would show Harley, prove to her, that he was better than Deadshot? He laid there with his eyes closed, his head against the back of the couch trying to think when suddenly an idea came to him. He knew exactly what to do! 

Fumbling around for a minute searching his pockets, Joker pulled out his phone and hit one of the speed dial numbers he had on his phone. 

The phone rang and rang before finally a sleepy voice answered. “What the actual fuck Joker!” 

Joker chuckled. “Hey Eddie, I need to know what Deadshot is doing in Gotham.” 

“Why on earth are you calling me?” In the background Joker could hear Quelle’s sleepy voice asking what was going on. 

“Because I figured you might actually know, you claim to know everything Mr. Brainiac,” Joker replied as he put his feet up on the coffee table in their living room and snickered. 

Eddie growled into the phone. “Well I don’t because I’m smart enough to stay away from assassins. You should call Oswald if you really want to know. Deadshot was buying some weapons from him last night, so maybe he knows why.” Riddler yawned. “Why do you care anyway? Deadshot’s an assassin. He probably isn’t going after anyone you care about unless he’s after you which I doubt or he would have shot you at the pool party.” 

“He could have tried,” Joker growled before adding. “I wanna know ‘cause I’m going to kill Deadshot’s target first.” Joker chuckled. “Going to show Harley who’s the better man.” 

“What?” Eddie sounded a little more awake. “Why would you do that? That’s crazy?” 

“Because I have to prove to Harley I’m the better choice,” Joker growled before he hung up. 

* 

Riddler looked at the phone with a frown. “Rude,” he muttered, tossing it back onto the table before he snuggled back down into his bed. Quelle smiled, snuggling closer and laid her head against his chest at the same time Eddie wrapped his arm around her shoulders. 

“That was the Joker? What did he want?” Quelle asked in a sleepy voice. 

Riddler sighed, closing his eyes and resting his other arm over his head. “I don’t know, something about stealing Deadshot’s bounty.” 

“Why on earth would he do that?” Quelle asked with her eyes closed, her arm around Eddie’s stomach. 

“I don't know, something about proving he was better than Deadshot to Harley.” Eddie yawned. “Don’t know why he has it in his head that he has to prove himself to her…she loves him, madly I might add.” 

Quelle sighed sleepily. “That’s crazy. Harley’s head over heels for him.” 

Riddler shrugged. “Yeah that’s what I thought…” He yawned again. “Enough about them. Let’s go back to sleep.” He tightened his grip around her shoulders. 

Quelle didn’t say a word. 

* 

Penguin was up and working on some basic paperwork for the lounge. He was sitting in his office with a large cup of coffee at his elbow; he had been drinking coffee all afternoon to keep himself going. Late nights and early afternoons were going to kill him he thought as he looked through some files when his cell phone rang, but not just any cell phone, his phone where he kept all his criminal numbers. 

Pulling the desk drawer open where he had tossed the phone, not expecting any calls today, Oswald picked it up and frowned. It was a call from the Joker. 

Joker calling at all was always a bit weird, but calling this early in the afternoon when Penguin knew he and Harley were seldom up this early gave him pause. After the fifth ring he answered. “Joker.” 

“Hey Pengy!! I got a favor I need to ask you about.” Joker’s voice didn’t sound as jolly as he was trying to make it Oswald noticed. There was a strain to it, an underlining of...something. He wasn’t sure what, but Joker did not sound as carefree as he usually did. 

“You know I don’t do favors Joker.” Cobblepot leaned back in his chair. “But, since I’m intrigued, what favor were you wanting?” 

“I want to know who Deadshot’s target is,” Joker asked on the other end. 

Penguin was genuinely surprised by Joker’s request. “Why do you want to know? I didn’t hire him for a job if that’s what you think. I was just selling him some weapons.” 

“Yes, but I know you Ossie. You have an idea who he’s been hired to kill and I need to know,” Joker growled softly. 

Oswald pursed his lips. “Now why do you need to know?” 

Joker smiled on his end of the phone. “Because I’m going to kill the target first.” 

Oswald sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “And why would you do that?” 

“Because I’m going to prove to Harley I’m better than Deadshot,” Joker declared. 

Oswald frowned and thought for a moment about asking why Joker would need to do that, but stopped himself. He did know why. He had seen the way Harley and Deadshot had been talking last night, thick as thieves the two of them had been. He also knew that Harley considered Floyd a friend, which had to grate on Joker’s nerves. 

Floyd was a good-looking man and Oswald doubted Joker could compete in that regard. Maybe the Joker had just realized that. 

That could only mean one thing: the Joker was jealous, jealous enough to do something stupid. 

“All right, let’s say I do know who Deadshot is after tonight and I know who hired him…” Oswald offered with a smirk in his voice. 

Joker tensed. Tonight? Good, the sooner the better. He needed Harley back now. The longer he waited the worse this feeling was going to get. 

“Well?” Joker asked with a growl in his voice. 

Penguin smirked on the other end of the line. “You owe me a favor for this clown, and you didn’t hear it from me.” 

Joker sighed, rolled his eyes, but ground out. “Okay. Tit for tat. Out with it Ossie.” 

“His target is a man named Carlton Duquesne, gangster. It appears that our city councilman Rupurt Thorne has grown tired of their association. Maybe he’s trying to cut off some of his underworld allies in order to clean up his reputation. Either way Deadshot is to kill Duquesne tonight as the man is leaving his dinner date with his daughter and her new husband.” 

“Really, you know where they’re having dinner?” Joker asked, pulling out a cigarette from the wrinkled depths of his coat. He held the phone with his shoulder against his ear while pulling out a lighter from his rumpled jacket and lit the cigarette. 

“They are dining at that upstart restaurant, Batmonte’s downtown,” Penguin groused. “The hit, from what my sources say, is tonight around eleven,” Oswald said with a smile. “Good luck Joker--you do know Deadshot is one of the best.” He couldn’t help but rub that little bit of information in. 

“Well Deadshot ain’t me now is he?” Joker grumbled taking a deep drag on his cigarette. 

Penguin gave a noncommittal grunt in response. 

Joker hung up the phone and stood up. He needed to shower and dress and get Frost. He had a murder to commit and he needed ot do it before Deadshot did. 

Joker thought of Harley and that twisted knot in his chest tightened again. He needed to know he was the best for her, needed to know that she found him desirable, even as part of him warred with his ego which kept hissing at him, “You know you’re the greatest. If she doesn’t appreciate you, then good riddance.” But the louder voice, the one that overwhelmed his ego, kept saying, 

“What if she doesn’t want you anymore? What if she looks at you and only sees a pale, green headed freak? What if she thinks you’re a terrible criminal, a pathetic clown while Deadshot is a professional? Professional killer and handsome, more handsome than you. What if your touch revolts her? What if Deadshot is better looking and a better killer?” 

Joker marched to the showers, tossing his cigarette into the kitchen sink as he walked passed. No, he was not going to lose her. He didn’t care how many people he had to kill in Gotham, he was going to show Harley he was the best for her, no matter what it took.


	2. The Proving

When Harley woke, she instantly knew the apartment was empty. She sat up and threw the covers aside, looking around. She knew Joker had never come to bed last night because she had slept fitfully, waking up several times to reach for him only to find he hadn’t joined her. The hurt that caused her prevented Harley from going into the living room and forcing him to come back to bed. 

For a moment she just sat there in their bed feeling lost and alone. Her chest felt heavy and she was sick to her stomach. Every part of her hurt and now he was gone! 

She got up and walked quietly into the living room, just in case she was wrong, but when she approached the couch she stopped. 

The only thing still there was the empty whiskey bottle. 

Joker was gone. 

She headed into the bathroom and found his clothes from last night on the floor. He had clearly showered and changed, but where had he gone? Harley’s heart started to thump hard in her chest and her palms became sweaty. Something was wrong, so very wrong… 

Harley hurried back into their bedroom to find her phone, calling the first person she could think of... 

Frost. 

* 

Frost drove quietly, his gaze continuing to shift from the road to the backseat where Joker sat looking both miserable and manic while he stared out the window and smoked a cigarette. He had called Frost first thing this evening demanding the car. It had been strange, Frost thought. There had been a hint of the old Joker in his voice, the man he had been before Harley had come into his life, a darker tone, devoid of anything but pain, and perhaps desire to inflict pain. Joker’s voice had sent shivers down Frost's spine. He hadn’t asked the Boss any questions, but had simply obeyed, arriving at the hideout to find Joker waiting for him outside, standing under the single streetlight by the hideout. The Boss was dressed in a white collarless shirt, dark, forest green vest, deep, almost black purple trench coat and black slacks. His hair was slicked back mostly, though it looked a little spiky in places, and his lips were painted a red so dark that at first they looked black in the single streetlamp’s light. He was standing under the streetlight with a .338 Lapua Magnum resting on his shoulder. 

Frost felt his blood turn to ice. 

No one used that type of weapon unless they were planning on an assassination. Joker didn’t do assassinations. He liked to be up close and personal when he killed someone, so seeing Joker holding that weapon threw Frost off. He had no idea what was going on. 

When the Boss climbed into the back of the car Frost saw that he was armed with his usual pistols and his knife, which brought Frost a degree of comfort, but the rifle gave him pause. 

“Where to Boss?” Frost had asked. 

Joker had said quietly. “We are going hunting my darling.” 

* 

Frost pulled the car into an alley that ran along the side of the old department store building that was now filled with apartments and some trendy clothing stores that occupied the bottom floor. 

The building was catty corner to the restaurant Batmonte. 

Parking the car in a position that would allow him to get to it easily and get out of the alley quickly, Frost finally turned around to look at Joker. “Boss, you want to tell me what this is all about?” 

Joker flicked his cigarette out the tiny crack in the back window. 

“I’m here to kill someone,” he explained simply. 

Joker smiled, though the smile lacked something vital. It took Frost a couple of seconds to realize what that was; Joker’s smile contained no humor, no life. It was as if part of Joker was dead, which reminded Frost far too much of the man Joker had been before Harley. 

“Boss, who are you going to kill?” Frost frowned trying to see Joker’s eyes, but it was too dark here in the alley for him to get a good look. 

“I have to prove to Harley that I’m good enough for her,” Joker muttered. “So I’m going to take Deadshot’s kill from him.” He chuckled and the sound was frightening. “I’m going to prove I’m the better man so Harley doesn’t leave me.” 

“Boss, where did you get an idea like that? Miss Quinn loves you.” Frost shifted so he could see Joker better. “I don’t understand what Deadshot has to do with …” 

“But how long before she realizes she could do better, Frosty? How long before she starts thinking that a ghost white clown with green hair isn’t for her?” Joker looked up at the other man and the light from one of the apartment’s above cut just right to highlight Joker’s blue eyes giving Frost a clear view of the pain in them. “What if she starts wanting someone more...normal looking…” He said ‘normal’ with distaste in his tone. “What if she wants someone that’s classically good looking with tan skin and grey eyes and a dimpled chin?” Joker leaned forward a little, gripping the rifle. “I can’t be there for her, so I have to show her that I’m as good as Deadshot if not better...No. No, I am better.” He ground out the last part of the sentence. 

Frost swallowed nervously. 

He had never known the Joker to doubt himself about...well about anything, but this...this was different. There was real doubt in the pale man’s gaze and real...fear? Frost realized that Joker felt legitimately afraid that Harley was going to leave him--he had to assume for Deadshot or at least because of someone like Deadshot. Frost had no idea where the Boss had gotten that idea, but he knew without a doubt that it wasn’t true. Miss Quinn was completely and utterly devoted to the Boss. He had never seen anyone love someone like Miss Quinn loved the Boss and vice versa. Frost knew that the Boss loved Harley, deeply and completely. So what had happened to make the Boss think that he wasn’t enough for Miss Quinn? 

“Boss, Miss Quinn loves you…” Frost started, but Joker interrupted him and whispered. “I don’t think I could go on without her Frost, you know…” He smiled a little, a sad smile. “I just need her to know I’m as good as, if not better than Deadshot...I just…” His eyes narrowed in the shadows. “I need her not to think about leaving me for someone else, to know that I’m the better choice, that I’m always the better choice…” He closed his eyes for a moment then hissed through his teeth as if the emotion made him angry. “I love her.” 

“Boss?” Frost asked in confusion but Joker just pushed the back door of the car open and stepped out. He didn’t look back as he said quietly, “Just wait for me here.” 

He slammed the door shut, his long legs cutting the distance between him and the building in a moment. 

Frost had his hand on the handle, ready to follow the green haired man, but stopped himself. Something told him that this time if he disobeyed, Joker would not be happy. 

That was when his phone started to ring. 

He frowned watching Joker’s retreating back as the man rounded the corner and, he presumed, to enter the building. He pulled his phone out and sucked in a breath when he looked down at the display. It was Harley. 

He hit the button. “Miss Quinn?” 

“Frost where are you?” Harley’s voice was pitched high with a combination of anger and fear. “Mistah J was gone when I woke up--please tell me he’s with you?” 

Frost nodded even though he knew Miss Quinn couldn’t see him. “Yes, he just went into a building. He’s going to assassinate someone.” 

“What?! Who?!” Harley shouted, her voice climbing several octaves before she took a breath and let it out calmly, for a moment reminding Frost a great deal of his mother who took a breath when she was trying to keep herself calm before she beat his ass. “Okay, who is he trying to kill?” Harley asked, her voice trembling with emotion. 

“I don’t know Miss Quinn. I only know that he said he was going to steal Deadshot’s kill. Deadshot is here on an assignment and…” Harley interrupted him, her voice climbing again. “Why?!!” 

Frost frowned. “He said something about proving himself to you.” 

“WHAT!!??” Harley screamed into the phone forcing Frost to hold it back from his ear. 

* 

Joker found the perfect position on the roof. He could see his target inside the building. A quick internet search showed him an image of the man Deadshot was after, Carlton Duquesne, a tall, broad shouldered, bald, dark skinned man with an impressive goatee! Joker grinned and thought the man should be given an award for that goatee! 

Once he was in position, Joker looked around, his eyes narrowed. He had figured there were only three possible places that would give someone a good view of the front of the restaurant, he had gambled on which one Deadshot would choose based on what Joker knew about the man. Deadshot wasn’t a gambler. He was a crack shot, but he would take the route that promised him the easiest, fastest kill. 

Deadshot was all about efficiency. 

Joker smirked as he thought the man didn’t have a creative bone in his body. How did he keep the job fun, Joker wondered as he set his rifle up and crouched down. He knew Deadshot would also probably go for a shot when the target was leaving. Well, Joker was going to go for a shot right through the restaurant. Carlton Duquesne was going to get a little blood in his soup tonight. Joker chuckled at his little, joke but his smile quickly faded as he thought of Harley. She would like that joke, wouldn’t she? His self doubt twisted in his chest. Now he was questioning everything, fear coloring every thought. Would she still love him, would he lose her, would this be enough for him to prove that he was the best man, better than Deadshot and better in all ways for her? 

What if this didn’t change anything? 

What if he couldn’t make her smile anymore? 

His head was becoming heavy and twisted with progressively darker and darker thoughts that he just couldn’t seem to find his way out of. He loved Harley, loved her so much it was killing him and now that the seed of doubt was buried, it was feeding on the darkest parts of his soul, causing his doubt to flourish into something he couldn’t control. 

He pressed his lips together and looked through the scope of the gun. He took a deep breath and focused on the kill. Once he had made this kill, once he had outsmarted Deadshot, shown that he was just as good as any of these younger men, that he was better than Deadshot at his own game, then forced the man to fight him...a good bloody fight in which the Joker wouldn’t kill him, just beat him down until he knew that Harley was his, that...that… 

Joker bit down hard on his bottom lip. Once he was through that, then maybe his self doubt would evaporate and he could go back to Harley safe in the knowledge that he was the best man for her. Maybe this intense, burning fear that Harley would leave him would go away. 

Closing one eye Joker focused his other eye, looking through the scope into the restaurant. It didn’t take him long to find his target. 

A slow smile spread across Joker’s face. 

* 

Deadshot was dressed in his favorite red and black body armor, except for the mask he liked to wear. Tonight it was too hot and he wasn’t really the least bit worried about being seen, was all set up, watching his target eat dinner through his personal smart monocle that covered his right eye. He had this kill perfectly planned. The moment Carlton Duquesne stepped out the front door of the restaurant, he would shoot, the bullet ricocheting off three places before it hit the target, giving him just enough time to leap down the fire escape and onto the motorcycle he had stashed a couple of blocks away after a brisk jog and he would be gone before the police even showed up. 

It was perfect, and easy. He loved making easy money. A challenge was nice, but right now he would take the easy job. 

He had just settled back to wait when he heard a gunshot. No one else would have heard it, probably if they did they would think it was just some distant sound of no consequence, but Deadshot knew the sound instantly. It was followed by the sound of breaking glass and as Deadshot looked on in shock, he saw his target, Carlton Duquesne’s head fall forward, a bloody exit wound in the back of his bald head. 

“What the fuck?!” Deadshot stood just in time to see a figure, across from him and a couple of buildings down stand up...and wave in his general direction. 

Deadshot couldn’t believe his eyes. It was the fucking Joker. 

Joker stayed where he was on the building, waving at him like a fool. Deadshot looked down. The restaurant was in chaos, the cops would be here any minute and that fucking clown had just stolen two million dollars out of his bank account! 

Deadshot was on his feet. He didn’t care how much Harley loved that freak, he was going to kill him. 

* 

Joker grinned down at the chaos he had started, waiting until he saw Deadshot stand, then cheered to himself. He had been right about which building Deadshot would be on. He waited, watching as Deadshot moved, leaping across the gap between buildings. The man would be here within seconds. Joker chuckled, counting to ten, and when he saw Deadshot make the leap to the building next to his, Joker took off. 

Now, time to really prove himself. 

Joker raced to the side of the building and threw himself over the side. 

* 

Frost heard the sound of shattering glass and a small retort of what could have been a firearm discharge from some distance away. 

He jerked in his seat followed quickly by the sounds of sirens in the distance. “Oh fuck…” he muttered, sticking his head out of his driver’s side window, looking up at the building that Joker had disappeared into just in time to see a long-legged figure leap across the space between buildings. He watched in stunned silence only to see another shadow leap across after the other. 

“Oh fuck, fuck…” Frost muttered just as his phone rang. He pulled it out, saw it was Miss Quinn. 

“Frost! Bob and I are almost there…” 

“Miss Quinn, he already made the shot...I can’t be sure, but I think he just jumped across the alley onto the roof of another building...and someone is chasing him.” Frost could hear the sounds of sirens coming closer, a lot of sirens. 

“Which direction are they going?” Harley asked, her voice frantic. 

It took Frost a second before he could answer trying to remember the street. “They are heading east, down Kingston…” he said. 

Harley hissed. “There’s all that construction down that way right?” 

“Yeah, there is like a block of new buildings going up and a few older ones that are being torn down, so that whole street is a mess,” Frost confirmed. 

He couldn’t see her, but he could hear the determination in Harley’s voice. “Head to the construction site. If I know my puddin that is where he is gonna want a fight.” 

“Gotcha Miss Quinn, on my way,” Frost said and hung up the phone throwing the car into gear. He sped out of the alley heading down Kingston and hopefully going the direction that the Boss and possibly Deadshot were headed. 

* 

Joker threw himself off the edge, his arms out, laughing even as his feet hit the roof of the lower building. He staggered only a little and kept running, spared a glance over his shoulder to see Deadshot hot on his heels. He grinned heading toward the skyscraper that was under construction along with several buildings on this block, the perfect place for a good mano a mano fight, Joker thought with a grim smile. He had never thought of himself in need of a pissing contest before, proving himself the better man had never been a concern of his, but his self doubt was pushing him into this fight. His fear that Harley might like a man like Deadshot more than him made him not just want to prove himself the better shot, but the better fighter. He wanted Harley to know he was the better choice. 

He needed this fight. 

And maybe he just needed the pain. Pain always helped him clear his head and right now his head was a twisted mess of dark thoughts, self-loathing, fears of inadequacy, of loss, of being alone without Harley, and pain--lots of pain. 

He ran, leaping up, and in a classic parkour move which he was sure Batman would have been proud of (too bad the Bat wasn’t here yet to see how cool he was being), Joker ran along the side of a half constructed brick wall using it to launch himself over the larger space between buildings. He landed on the slightly lower roof and rolled, coming up onto his feet and looking over his shoulder with a wide grin before he put on some more speed. He leaped across to the next building where he grabbed onto a window sill in the half constructed skyscraper and pulled himself up and through into the dark skeleton of the building. 

Deadshot cursed. 

He would never had said that Joker was...well...good at something like this. He knew Joker was good with pistols, knives, a close quarters fighter, but the man had incredible stamina. He was running and laughing without seeming to lose his breath and the leaps he was making were impressive. The tall, lean man was certainly limber and in good shape. He may have lacked the muscle mass that he himself had, but Deadshot was impressed because the Joker certainly had the dexterity. 

He knew this chase was going to end in a fight for reasons he didn’t understand, had found his target somehow, but if this clown wanted to dance, then he was happy to dance. 

* 

Floyd pulled himself into the building and stopped. The place only had a few completed walls. The building, lit by a few work lamps, was mostly just a skeleton of exposed beams and frames, the floor simple plywood and sheathing board in places where there even was a floor. Tools were scattered everywhere, left behind by the workers to be picked up again in the morning. He looked around slowly, saw no sign of the Joker, no sound of running footsteps, no laughing… 

“All right Joker, what the fuck was that about? That was my hit, a two million dollar hit by the way, that you just fucked up for me. Want to tell me why?” Deadshot pulled out one of his pistols looking around, his monocle allowing him to see in the dim light better. 

“You know Deadshot. What a funny name, Deadshot…” Joker laughed. “Deadshot...though I suppose it’s much better than Floyd.” Joker snickered. “What was your mother thinking with a name like that?!” 

Floyd frowned. The clown’s voice seemed to be coming from everyone and nowhere at once. Good trick Floyd thought with a small smirk. “Come on out Joker, let’s discuss this. I ain’t got no beef with you…” 

“Ain’t got no beef…” Joker laughed. “Well too bad Floyd, ‘cause I got one with you. Hey, I just thought of an assassins joke--wanna hear it?” 

Floyd frowned as he moved from the skeleton of the room he was in to another trying to figure out where Joker was hiding. 

“I don’t like jokes,” Floyd ground out. 

“Oh come on, who doesn’t like a joke? Harley likes jokes. She always finds my jokes funny.” Joker’s voice seemed strained to Floyd when he spoke about Harley. Did this have something to do with her? “She likes a man that makes her laugh.” Joker’s voice sounded pained and dark before he laughed again. 

“Okay here’s the joke! So there was this professional assassin who charged $1000 a bullet. A guy comes up to him in the bar one night and says to the assassin. 

"Are you the guy who charges $1000 a bullet?" 

The assassin nods. "Yup." 

"What if you miss?" The man asked and the assassin looked at the man with a deadly serious expression. 

"I don't miss..." he says. 

The man nods. "Okay, we'll get $2000 here. I just found out my wife is having an affair with my best friend. They're at this motel together right now." The man gives the assassin the address and the assassin stands up. “All right, let's go." Deadshot kept his head on a swivel, but still couldn’t find the taunting Joker as he moved through the room, entered another, his pistol ready. 

“So the two men drive to a store across the street from the motel and they both climb up on the roof. The assassin takes out his rifle and attaches the scope. 

"They're in room 21. I want you to shoot her in the head, and I want you to blow his dick off,” the husband says. 

“The assassin nods and looks through his scope. He keeps staring for several minutes, not taking the shot. 

“The man next to him is getting anxious and he asks. "Well? What are you waiting for!?" 

“The assassin whispers. "Hold on two more minutes. I think I can save you $1000." 

Joker burst out laughing and Floyd chuckled. “That’s good. Now why don’t you come out and we talk?” 

“Okay, if you insist!” 

Floyd only sensed movement at the last second and looked up to see Joker, crouched on a beam above him, grinning. He barely got his arm up in time to shield his face before Joker jumped down, his feet hitting Floyd in the arm knocking him off his feet and causing Deadshot to lose his hold on his gun. He slid across the floor, his gun sliding the other way. He looked up to see Joker land on his feet with a grin, pulling a couple of knives from the inside of his jacket. 

“All right Floyd, let’s talk. Let’s talk about Harley.” Joker’s smile looked vicious and cruel. 

Floyd wondered in that moment if he had made an error and cursed under his breath. “Fuck.” 

* 

Harley, her hair down and wearing a simple white t-shirt and a pair of baggy pink pants and some slip on white tennis shoes, was sitting in the front seat of Bob’s black and white Alpine A110 Sports X with pink interior. She was looking out the windshield, then putting her head out of the passenger window looking up the buildings on Kingston looking for any sign of Joker. She couldn’t fathom why Joker would be taking a kill away from Deadshot! Joker wasn’t an assassin. Hell, they rarely even moved in the same circles and had only exchanged maybe two or three words. She knew Joker didn’t like Floyd and Floyd didn’t like him, but she had never thought their dislike was anything violent; rather more of a polite distaste. 

She frowned, racking her mind for something she missed when she remembered last night. She had gone to get drinks and Floyd had been there… 

Joker started to act weird after she had returned with the drinks...after she had been talking with Floyd. Floyd who had been rather close to her, had touched her, even if that had been only as friends. 

Suddenly Harley saw movement above her. “Stop the car!!” 

She smacked Bob in the shoulder and the big man pulled the car over with a foot hard on the breaks. Harley leaned out the window, still looking up. She thought she had seen a shadow flicker across one of the lights on the construction site. She narrowed her eyes trying to see something when a car pulled up in front of them. Harley reached for her gun, but stopped when she saw it was Frost. 

He had jumped out of his car and hurried over, his gaze going from the red and blue lights far behind them in the distance to her. “Anything?” 

“I thought I saw…” Harley started to say then stopped, her eyes widening. “Up there, I can see movement.” 

“I’ll go check…” Frost began, but Harley was out of the car and running inside the construction site before Frost could finish his sentence. 

Frost looked to Bob who looked upset, but the big man shrugged. Frost nodded and took off after Miss Quinn. 

* 

Joker moved with a grace Floyd would never have believed if he wasn’t looking at it up close and personal. The man had barely given Floyd time to get to his feet and back away before Joker’s knives were cutting through the air. 

“What has Harley got to do with this?!” Deadshot hissed, trying to put some distance between himself and Joker. He twisted out of the way, pulling out his own knife. He was decent with knives, but guns were his forte and he suspected that Joker could outclass him in a knife fight. He raced ahead and slipped behind an iron beam. 

“Does Harley know you’re here?” Floyd yelled out. 

Joker growled. “I’m going to prove to Harley that I’m better than you.” 

“What?” Floyd felt really confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“I know you’re handsome and a skilled killer, I’ll give you that, but you’re not me! You can’t make her laugh like I can and...and…” Joker’s voice faltered. 

Floyd looked around the corner. “Are you worried Harley doesn't want you?” He couldn’t keep the astonishment out of his voice. He and Harley were friends and while he might flirt with her for a joke, he didn’t see her as anything more than a friend, maybe a little sister, but other than that he had no real interest in the blonde. Where had Joker gotten the idea that he did? 

He had been thinking too much and hadn’t seen Joker move into the shadows until the clown came out of the darkness in front of him and sliced at him. Floyd threw himself out of the way, the knife slicing into his shoulder. 

He needed to end this fight and quickly, without ending up dead himself and he didn’t want to have to kill Joker--no matter how angry he felt about losing a hit--Harley would never forgive him and if a jealous and inferior feeling Joker was dangerous, Floyd suspected a grieving Harley would be worse. 

“I’m not interested in Harley!” Floyd yelled. 

Joker growled. “Of course you are! Who wouldn’t be interested in her?! She’s gorgeous!! She is funny! And she has the sexiest smile!!” Joker spat at Floyd while trying to hurt him. 

“Well ,she only wants you.” Floyd jumped back out of the way as Joker took another thrust at him with his knives, offering a swipe of his own blade to get some distance between them. 

“But...but she might not…” Joker snarled. “She might see someone like you and want...want that…” The clown’s voice broke. “What if she wants someone she thinks is better looking than me? Better than me…” Joker snarled. “I’m going to prove I’m better than you! No one’s better than me! Not for her!” Joker’s knives were a blur as the lean clown lashed and cut at his opponent; Deadshot used his knife to block a few strikes, but relied on his own reflexes to avoid the brutal attack and realized if Joker wasn’t distracted by emotional distress, he would be even more dangerous with those blades. “I will be the best for her!” Joker snarled. 

Floyd wanted to groan. He did not want to play relationship counselor with these two nutbags. 

He ducked under the next slice that Joker took at him, and snapped back with an attack. His fist connected with Joker’s face hard, smashing him in the mouth and knocking the clown back a step. Floyd took advantage of Joker’s misstep and rammed his shoulder into the clown’s diaphragm, knocking the other completely off his feet. 

Deadshot hurried over to hit the clown again, thinking if he could knock him out, that would end this. He got another couple of punches in, one to Joker’s face, bloodying his nose and lip, another to his chest, trying to knock the air out of him, but when Deadshot went for a third, thinking to hit Joker in the throat, the clown performed a move worthy of Harley. He got his feet under himself and with his hands (despite still holding the knives) pushed himself back to his feet knocking Deadshot’s hand wide. 

Joker spun gracefully around, having adjusted his hold on his knives so that the blades were against his forearms and swung at Deadshot. 

Floyd was hit by one, the sharp knife slicing across his palm, but he managed to avoid the second. He ducked and weaved, his hand snapping out and with the ball of his hand, Floyd hit Joker in the face, catching the clown in the nose and upper lip. The hit should have knocked him back, but the clown shrugged it off, smiling at him with a bloody grin and instead brought his leg up. Joker's knee caught Floyd painfully in the diaphragm. 

Floyd gasped, just barely having enough time to bring his hand down to block Joker’s second attempt to use his knees before he threw an uppercut that caught Joker under the chin, snapping the clown’s head back. 

Joker stumbled back and spit bloody as he glared at Deadshot. 

That was when both men heard a scream followed by Harley yelling. “DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM!!” 

Both men stopped, not sure who Harley was talking about, but Floyd didn’t have to wait long to find out before Harley slammed into him, jumping onto his back, her arms and legs going around him in a painfully tight grip. 

“Harley!!” Floyd grabbed at her arms where she was choking him. “Let go!!” 

“Don’t you lay another hand on my puddin!!” Harley snarled and bit Floyd’s ear. 

Floyd let out a startled yelp of surprise as Harley bit down on his ear. 

“Ahh!!!” Deadshot reached over his shoulders and grabbed her, one hand grabbing her by her hair, with his other hand he grabbed her by her clothing and dropped to one knee while yanking her over his head. 

Harley hit the floor hard, but she still spun around into a crouch. 

“What the actual fuck Harley?!” Floyd yelled at her, his hand, which had gone to his ear, came back bloody, though it felt as if all she had done was bite him and not actually tear anything off. Great, all he needed was a scar of Harley Quinn’s teeth in his ear. 

“Don’t you hurt my puddin!” Harley put herself in front of Joker who was standing there, still looking dumbfounded. 

“I didn’t want to hurt him, but he started it!” Floyd pointed at Joker only realizing how he sounded after he had already said the words. 

“I don’t care who started it! I’m finishing it!” Harley stamped her foot, her hands balling into fists, but she spun around to glare at Joker. 

“What the hell are you doing??!!” She snarled, her voice raising an octave. “You were shitty to me last night and then I woke up tonight to find you gone just to find out from Frost you were out here shooting Deadshot’s target??!” Harley poked Joker in the chest, hard. 

The look on Joker’s face looked comical, Floyd thought. The man looked both happy, confused, and maybe ashamed. It was hard to tell on that pale face and right now his nose and lips were pretty bloody from their fight, but he looked sheepish if Floyd had ever seen the look. 

“I…” Joker started, swallowed, then started again. “I wanted to prove I was as good as, if not better than him.” Joker pointed over at Deadshot like a sullen child, his slightly swelling bottom lip sticking out. “I wanted you to know that I was...I wanted to make sure…” Joker’s face crumbled. “Do you love me?” 

Harley blinked in confusion. “What?” 

“Do you love me? Do you want me?” Joker asked again. “Even though I don’t look like him?” He pointed once more at Floyd. 

Harley glanced at Floyd giving him a slightly disgusted look. Floyd chose not to be insulted. 

“Oh...oh puddin…” Harley turned back to Joker and reached up to cup Joker’s face between her hands staring into his eyes. She was struck by just how upset he really was and realized now that he actually was worried he wasn’t enough for her. She felt the knot that had been tightening slowly in her chest all night begin to loosen. “Oh puddin, of course I love you. I love everything about you. You are my puddin, my lover, my friend, my partner, my husband. No one compares to you--no one. You are sexy in a way no other man could ever be! You’re funny, handsome, dangerous, and so much fun in bed.” She giggled and added, “There is no one like you puddin, no one better than you. You are all I want, all I’ll ever wanted puddin...Always you.” 

Joker stared back at her and she could see the shininess of tears in his blue eyes, then slowly he began to grin. Blood stained his white teeth, but his eyes were sparkling. “I knew it.” 

Harley giggled as Joker murmured. “I knew I was better than him, that you’d never want another guy when you have me.” 

“Never puddin, never ever.” Harley giggled. “Floyd’s a friend, nothing more.” 

“Good.” Joker wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her. Harley made a small, happy sound wrapping her arms around his neck. She could taste blood when she kissed Joker which only made her body drum with pleasure, with need, and with want. She needed to show him the meaning of her words. 

Floyd rolled his eyes and groaned. He was out two million dollars, had gotten stabbed and for what? So Harley and her nutcase of a husband could have a moment because that clown had decided he was what? Jealous? Insecure? 

“Whatever,” he muttered, sighing and cocking his head. The sirens were close, probably at the restaurant by now and more would be coming to comb the area. The cops would probably lock down a few blocks radius from the restaurant. 

“You two might want to scram,” Floyd muttered and he turned, glaring at Joker. “You do that again clown, there’s going to be a problem.” 

Joker pulled away from Harley’s lips long enough to smirk at Deadshot. “Don’t worry Deadshit. Being an assassin is probably the most boring, unfunny job on the planet. No thank you, you can have it.” 

Deadshot grinned, ignoring Joker purposely fucking with his name. “Good. ‘Night Harley.” 

Harley waved. “‘Night Floyd.” 

Deadshot shook his head and muttered. “This is why I’ll never get involved in relationships.” 

Harley turned her attention back to Joker. “We should talk.” 

Joker pouted. “That's never a good sign.”


	3. More Than Words

Harley and Joker slipped into the back of Frost’s car (more leg room) and followed Bob home. Joker laid with his head in Harley’s lap, curling into her. He might have said he was better, but she could tell he still felt a little fragile. She slowly stroked his hair, her fingers weaving through his thick green hair in gentle caresses. He laid with his face against her stomach, his arms tucked around her. 

They were both quiet for a little bit while Frost drove and Harley continued to stroke Joker’s hair for a few minutes before she asked. “Why did you think you had to prove that you were better than Floyd?” 

Joker didn’t say anything for a long time, instead snuggling his nose up against her stomach, curling his body in closer to her. Harley didn’t push him, wanted to give him time. She knew that he sometimes became confused about his emotions, and that sometimes he didn’t know how to react because he didn’t understand what he was feeling or why. Emotions--other than chaotic joy and anger--were always a challenge for him. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand them on an intellectual level--he did which was what made him such a good manipulator. But feelings, actually feeling them, was always so confusing for him. 

She remained quiet after the initial question and continued to stroke his hair; pushing him would only upset him more. She smiled in thought. Being his doctor gave her an insight into the man she loved that other women would never have with their own partners. It didn’t make things easier since she was in love with a psychotic clown, but that insight did help her in remaining calm and understanding with the man she loved whenever he was struggling. 

After a little while, when he didn’t answer, she thought he had fallen asleep. When he spoke it was soft, barely a whisper, his breath warm against her stomach. “I saw the way you were talking to him at Oswald’s party. They way you two were comfortable with each other…the way you looked together.” Joker’s voice trailed off. Harley didn’t say anything, sensing he wasn’t done. 

“He...I suppose he’s considered handsome.” Joker shrugged. “I guess I thought you might want someone more…” She could feel him stiffen as he struggled before he finally said, “...Normal.” 

Harley looked down at him. He had his eyes closed, his face and his forehead pressed against her stomach, but she could just see his red lips that were set in a grim line. She could also see the discoloration of a bruise forming at the corner of his mouth and down along his chin. He looked unhappy, torn between being angry and being hurt. 

Her handsome, handsome clown, Harley thought with a gentle smile. Her complicated, psychotic, murderous clown. It was almost funny how upset he felt over Floyd, that the man with so much confidence would suddenly feel so fragile, and all because of her. Knowing that made her heart swell with love for him. He cared for her, loved her, and wanted to prove that to her in the only way he knew how--by killing someone. 

She smiled. 

“Why would I ever want normal...” Harley asked softly as she gazed down at him, her fingers playing with his soft, green curls. “...when I have you?” 

“Because…” Joker muttered, almost making Harley laugh. He sounded like a pouty child who was upset, but who couldn’t find the words to describe exactly why they were upset and were annoyed when they couldn’t get someone to understand. 

“There is no because. I don’t want anyone but you puddin. You’re the guy that does it for me. Only you. You make me laugh like no one ever has,” she whispered. “You’re my clown and if anyone ever tries to get between us, I’ll kill’em puddin because I love you and only you. Plus, you are the only person who can make me really laugh, puddin. The only laughter in my life is you.” She smiled gently down at her husband. “You saved me from a boring life. You. Saved. Me.” Her voice was tight with emotion. “You complete me puddin, you saved me and showed me that everything is chaotic, and why we should just laugh at that chaotic existence.” She repeated her eyes tearing up, “You are my fate, my life, my love.” 

Joker looked up at her, his eyes wide, looking forlorn, but hopeful. “You mean it?” 

“Yes, cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in some other guy’s eyes.” She giggled before adding, “I’ll always love you puddin, always. I love you just the way you are, I don’t want you to change, and I certainly don’t want anyone different. You are my Joker and no one else's.” 

Joker looked up at her. His blue eyes were filled with a swirling storm of emotions, but he slowly sat up, gently reaching out and softly cupped the side of her neck with his palm, his fingers pressing lightly, but firmly against her the back of her neck. His eyes were magnetic; Harley lost herself in his blue gaze. Joker drew her toward him until his lips touched hers. At first his kiss was light, soft, but quickly grew hotter. 

Harley’s hands grasped his sides as she kissed her lover slowly, deeply, passionately, trying to use the action of her lips and tongue to communicate the words she couldn’t find to tell him, to make him understand just how much he meant to her, how important he was to her. She wanted him to understand exactly how deeply she loved him, how interwoven Joker was inside her soul, her personality, who she was mixed with the parts of who she had been interwoven with him. She loved him with every fiber of her being. She couldn’t breathe without him, couldn’t function without him. He was her everything. 

Joker opened his mouth against hers, his tongue sliding along Harley’s tongue in firm, passionate caresses. His free hand grasped the other side of her head, fingers in her hair, kissing her deeply, like her trying to communicate his feelings through actions because the words were too difficult, his feelings too complicated and raw for him to handle, but he needed her to know, to understand that he loved her, loved her in a way that was beyond reason, beyond insanity. 

She was his forever girl. 

Just as they felt as if they were on the verge of breaking through, past the need for words, Frost brought the car to a stop. 

He cleared his throat until Harley looked up, her eyes shining in the darkness of the car, her lips a deep red from kissing. 

Her eyes met Frost’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “We’re home,” he stated simply. 

Harley leaned her forehead against Joker’s forehead. He still held her face between his hands, his breathing ragged. 

She whispered. “Let’s get inside okay?” 

Joker simply nodded. 

* 

Harley flicked on the lights as she and Joker walked into their home holding hands. She kicked the door closed and pulled a willing Joker with her to their bedroom. The time for talking was over; now was the time for her to show him how much she loved him. 

Once they were in their bedroom Harley flicked the overhead light on and turned, shoved Joker against the wall. 

He smiled at her, his hair a messy mass of curls that flopped over his forehead, his clothing rumpled and bloodstained. He started to open his mouth, but Harley pressed her finger against his red, slightly swollen lips still stained with blood. 

“Shh...no more talking,” she whispered. “Let me show you how I feel.” 

Joker’s eyes widened just slightly, but he nodded, making Harley smile. She kissed his lips gently, licked his bottom lip, then his tongue, circling slowly before she began her exploration. She kissed his bottom lip, licking at the cut there before she made her way down to his chin. Her lips brushed down his throat while her fingers worked at the buttons of his vest and shirt. 

Once she had them undone, Harley pushed his clothing, jacket, shirt, vest, and gun holster off and down his shoulders, taking a moment to appreciate how sexy he looked with his shoulders bare, his clothing still caught on his arms. She grasped his arms at the elbow, pressing him back against the wall while her lips and tongue explored the sensual contours of his throat, bit gently at his ear lobe before she nibbled at his throat. She traced his throat down to the hollow of his throat, traveled along his collarbone to shoulders. She pressed her body against his, holding his arms down while she dragged her tongue along his shoulder, pressing her nose against his skin, inhaling his scent. 

Joker’s head rested back against the wall, his breathing becoming more ragged as Harley’s tongue glided down his torso. She stopped at each of his nipples, her tongue circling the small, hard, slightly pinkish nipples, her teeth brushing against them, making him hiss. She released her hold on his arms, allowing him to shake his clothing off and to the floor with a loud thunk from the guns while she continued to explore his chest. Her hands caressed the sides of his torso, glided over his ribs, while her tongue traced his pecs before sliding down the middle of his chest to his stomach. Her hands snaked along his stomach feeling the smooth play of muscles under his silky soft skin, her thumbs brushed up along the sides of his stomach where she stopped to circle his belly button with her tongue. He was lean and muscled like a dancer, like a slick, graceful predator, a hunter. She smiled. Her hunter, Harley thought with pleasure. 

Slowly she lowered herself to her knees in front of him, her fingers working gently at his slacks, unbuckling his belt, then the buttons, pulling the zipper down at the same time her eyes glanced up to see him watching her, his hair hanging down around his eyes, his lips partly open, his blue eyes glowing in his pale face. 

She smiled and leaned in, pressing her lips along the band of his green boxers, caressing the tender skin above his boxers with her lips and the tip of her tongue while his erection pressed against her chin. 

She felt the goosebumps erupt on his skin when she grasped the sides of his boxers and slacks. Looking back up at him, Harley slowly pulled them down his hips and along his thighs to his knees. Joker hissed as the cool air of their bedroom brushed over his skin, his erection now free. Harley smiled and looked back up, catching his eyes for a moment before she rubbed her cheek against his erection, causing Joker to suck in a quick breath. She brushed her other cheek against his smooth erection before she bent down and began to untie his dress shoes. 

He watched her, his heart racing while Harley undid the laces of one shoe, lifted his foot and gently pulled his shoe free. She set the shoe aside and pulled his socks down, unhooking them from the sock garters and stuffing the sock in his shoe before she removed the garter. She performed the same action on his other foot, then slowly pulled his boxers and slacks, along with his sheath for his knives, the rest of the way down, lifting his feet, one at a time to take his pants completely off. 

Once he was naked, Harley smiled, licking her lips as she ran her hands over the top of his pale feet, slowly snaking her fingertips up his legs, caressing her puddin, her hands sliding up his muscled thighs to his hips. Caressing his hips with her fingers and thumbs, Harley gently leaned in and pressed her lips to his groin, licking and kissing around the base of his erection. She brushed her nose against him, breathing deep the sweet, masculine scent of her man, her lover. The scent of his skin made her body burn, made her clitoris ache, and her breasts feel heavy. She loved the soft silky texture of his skin, the smoothness of him, her puddin...her Joker. Harley dragged the flat of her tongue along his balls, making him shudder and groan in delight. She grasped his hips, holding him steady while she dragged her tongue over him, exploring the different texture of his balls, enjoying the feel against her tongue mixed with the little gasps of pleasure coming from Joker’s red lips. 

Smiling, Harley gently sucked on his balls, catching the tender skin between her lips and smiled when he groaned again and hissed her name. Her hands glided up his hips to his stomach at the same time she pressed her mouth to his balls and sucked. The tremor that ran through his legs caused Harley’s groin to throb with desire. 

Gently Harley kissed her way to the base of his erection, then along his erection, her lips sliding along the soft, smooth satin skin of his shaft, followed by her tongue. She brushed her nose against him, inhaling before very gently pressing her teeth against him. Joker jerked, one of his hands very lightly coming to rest on her head, his fingers becoming tangled in her blonde hair. Harley looked up at the same time she wrapped a hand around his erection and pressed her lips to the tip. The look in Joker’s eyes was filled with lust and love; a true manifestation of chaos, but focused for and upon her. He pressed his lips together while Harley used her tongue to trace the head of his erection, exploring every detail of him, every curve before she wrapped her lips around him and sucked on the head. 

His fingers in her hair spasmed. 

Harley smiled and ever so slowly lowered her mouth on him, taking him deep into her mouth until she could press her nose against the base of his erection, felt him in her throat, her tongue snaking back and forth against the bottom of his shaft. Joker jerked and gasped. His fingers in her hand grabbed a fistful this time, tightening, hurting just a little, but she loved it, loved the gentle mix of pleasure and pain. Sucking a little harder, Harley bobbed her head slowly, taking her time, making sure he felt every moment of her lips, every stroke of her tongue. When she lowered her mouth down on him again, taking all of him into her mouth while sucking hard on him, Joker moaned, his knees shaking. 

“Harley...my Harley…” 

Her body thrummed with her building desires with the way Joker moaned her name combined with how much she loved having him in her mouth, sucking on him, exploring him. She dragged her lips up his length again before lightly biting the head of his erection, then down along his length with feather light brushes of her teeth mixed with her tongue, sucking kisses. She reached down and cupped his scrotum in her free hand to begin gently massaging him before returning to sucking his entire length into her mouth. 

Joker banged his head lightly against the wall with another, deeper groan. “Harley...uh…” 

Harley smiled around him, but she didn’t stop. As she cupped his balls, Harley slid her middle finger down and pressed light against his perineal area and gently circled her middle finger there. 

Joker gasped and jerked, his other hand coming around to her hair, his fingers tangling in her head as he held on, his legs tightening up while he struggled not to cum. She could hear him almost whimpering in his struggles while she once more deepthroated him into her mouth, pressing and massaging with her other hand. 

He banged his head against the wall again with a plea. “Uhh...Harley...” 

She very slowly dragged her hand away from him as well as her mouth, kissing the very tip of his penis before she stood up. 

“Go lay down,” she ordered. 

Joker looked like he couldn’t walk right away before he nodded and headed to the bed. Harley turned and followed him, smiling, her eyes eating in the sight of his bare ass, the sexy play of muscles along his back, his legs. He was perfect, she thought with a smirk. If he didn’t know the depth of her feelings, then he was for sure going to know after tonight she swore while she pulled her shirt over her head, stepped out of her shoes and slipped out of her pants and panties to leave them pooled on the floor. 

When Joker climbed onto the bed and turned, he saw Harley, completely naked and fully visible in the overhead light. He licked his bottom lip, his eyes raking down over her body, his erection quivering at the sight of her. Her golden hair glowed along with the peaches and cream of her skin. Her full breasts looked soft and biteable, her hard nipples a rosy red that made his mouth water and his erection tightened. He shuddered, struggling as a drop of cum beaded at the head of his penis just from looking at her, his intense lust mixed with his love for her. He loved her so much he had no words. His feelings were so strange and twisted with their intensity, but he would die for her, kill for her, live for her. Anything she needed or wanted, he would do it for her. 

He watched her with bated breath as Harley stalked toward the bed. Her eyes burned a bright pale blue, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders making her look a little savage, like she was going to eat him alive. Joker grinned, deciding he would like that. 

“Lay back,” Harley growled and Joker rushed to obey her, reclining on his back, his head propped by a couple of their pillows. 

Harley climbed on top of him, standing for a moment above him. Joker gazed up at her like a man at worship. The light curls of blonde hair between her legs, which were a darker gold than her hair, shimmered in the overhead light, wet with her need, causing Joker to bite his bottom lip. She was wet and ready for him and he was weak before her. Her girl, his lover, his harlequin, and now he knew for sure, only his, his forever. 

Slowly Harley squatted over him, one hand on his chest while she held him steady with her other, sliding down on his erection with a low, passionate moan as his penis pressed past her barriers and into the hot aching need at her core. Joker groaned, reaching up to hold her hips, not so much guiding her down on him as just needing to touch her. 

Once he was fully inside her, Harley tightened her muscles around him, causing Joker to hiss and jerk under her as he struggled for control causing her to smile, her heart slamming against her breastbone. Leaning forward just a little, her knees touching his shoulders, she leaned forward just a moment as she struggled to stop herself from simply grinding on him. She wanted this to be slow, passionate. When her puddin came, she wanted his orgasm to be so intense that he couldn’t get out of bed to walk. It was so hard though. He felt so good inside her and the look of intense pleasure on his face only made the urge to grind and thrust hard and fast on him more difficult to fight against, but she did it. 

Smiling with that thought Harley slowly sat back, spreading her legs wide and started to thrust her hips forward, slow and easy. Her strength made Joker groan. The position required Harley to use the muscles of her legs, but she executed the position gracefully. Sucking on his bottom lip, Joker grunted, grasping her hips as he lifted his head to watch her. Her legs were spread exposing all of her to him, her dark pink, wet sex revealed to him like a flower. He groaned, bringing his knees up and Harley immediately reached back to grab his knees, arching her back as she thrust forward, making Joker shudder while giving him a perfect view of his penis, slick and wet, sliding into and out of her. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, he thought, and she was on top of him, thrusting against him, not anyone else...him! Harley Quinn had chosen him over everyone else ever! Joker chuckled with pleasure that quickly turned into another deep throated groan when Harley thrust again, but harder, squeezing him at the same time. He brought a hand around to touch her, his fingers brushing against her clitorit feeling the sweet, dripping wetness of her. When his fingers touched her, Harley hissed in delight, but as he gently pressed the pad of his thumb against her, rubbing up and down, circling slowly, Harley moaned. 

Harley made sure she moved slowly, carefully, not wanting to rush because she needed to make sure he knew exactly how much she loved him by drawing their lovemaking out as long as possible. Her puddin needed to never feel inadequate or insecure in her feelings for him. She rode him in slow, easy thrusts, but when Joker touched her, his fingers brushing against her followed by him rubbing the pad of his thumb against her swollen clitoris, Harley was sure she saw stars. She came with a gasping explosion that made her knees go weak, forcing her to put her legs down and drop to her hands. Joker wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down for a searing kiss while he sat up, crossing his legs, scooted back, and pulled her closer, holding onto her as if afraid to let her go. 

Once he was up and comfortable, Harley adjusted herself on his erection, careful not to lose his shaft inside her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him as deep as he could go into her body. She groaned, biting her bottom lip. Her orgasm was still sending shudders through her body. Brushing her nose against his long narrow one, Harley took his face in her hands to stare into his eyes. Her thumbs brushed gently against his high cheekbones. The contrast of their skin, his milky white, hers a rosy peach, only excited her more as she stared into his endless blue eyes. 

“I love you,” she growled tenderly, holding his face firmly in her hands, her voice trembling slightly with the intensity of her feelings. “There will never be anyone else but you puddin. I swear on my heart and my life. You are the only man for me, forever and ever until death do us part.” 

Joker stared back at her. His blue eyes glowed under his green eyebrows, framed by his dark lashes. “I love you pumpkin…You are my girl, only you, forever,” he said with a quiet intensity. 

Harley smiled, wrapping her arms under his arms and grasped his shoulders, giving her a firmer grip on him. She kissed him deeply and started to move again in slow, firm thrusts, moving up and down, followed by a few seconds of tense grinding and rocking before she lifted herself again. She smiled when she felt and heard Joker’s grunts of pleasure, his hands grasping her waist. He returned her kiss, gently biting her tongue, her bottom lip shuddering with each of her thrusts. 

He rocked with her, his arms wrapped tight around her and groaned her name sweetly. 

“My Harley...uh...Harley…” he whispered huskily. “I love you…” 

Harley tenderly kissed his chin, then along his jaw to his ear. She caught the lobe of his ear with her teeth while she slowly rocked on his erection, squeezing him and causing them both to shudder. Her lips wandered to his throat, her tongue finding his pulse where she sucked gently and continued her grinding, rocking, the warm slickness of their lovemaking mixed with their shuddering breaths until Joker stiffened and groaned deeply. 

“Harley...pumpkin...” His grip on her tightened and she felt the way his entire body seemed to grow tight. The pressure of his erection inside her swelled, followed swiftly by Joker’s almost agonized cry of pleasure as he came. 

Holding on tightly, her mouth coming down on Joker’s lips, Harley’s body tightened in response and broke. She came with him, her own orgasm an explosion that left her struggling to catch her breath. 

They held onto each other, riding their shared orgasm, holding on to each other until Joker finally fell backwards with a grunt, bringing Harley with him. He groaned softly, slowly straightening his legs out. Harley shifted, trying to keep him inside her, but they were both too wet and gooey for that and Joker’s now slightly softer erection slipped out. Sighing, Harley rolled to the side and snuggled up against Joker who lifted his arm so she could lay her head against his shoulder. She wrapped a leg around one of his and relaxed with a smile. 

They both sighed, Joker lazily stroking his fingers along her bare arm, his eyes falling closed. 

“So, you believe me now when I say I love only you?” Harley asked gently while she circled one of his pale nipples with her fingertip. “That I don’t want anyone but you?” 

Joker chuckled, glancing down at her. “I suppose I’m convinced.” 

“Suppose??!” Harley pinched his nipple hard, causing Joker to yelp and jump as he tried to untangle from her, but Harley wrapped her arm around his chest and pulled him back. 

“I don’t know why I love such a disagreeable woman,” Joker muttered with a grin. “A disagreeable woman who pinches!” 

Harley giggled. “You love it.” 

Joker wrinkled her nose at her. “Maybe…” 

She giggled pushing herself up on her elbow to look into his eyes. 

Harley whispered, reaching out to gently caress his bottom lip. “I could never love anyone the way I love you puddin. You are mine and I am yours. Wherever you go, I go--don’t ever forget that.” 

Joker smiled tenderly at her, reaching up to caress her cheek. “I never knew what love was until you Harley. I don’t want to lose that, I don't want to lose you. You...you make the darkness, the horrors, the insanity bearable. I would be completely lost without you.” 

“Then never go without me,” Harley whispered before she kissed him. 

Joker wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her tenderly, deeply, pouring himself into the kiss, letting Harley know he was all right now, as long as he had her.


End file.
